


Domesticity

by Miraculous_Max (Maximilian_Alexander)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adult Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Adult Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Chat Noir Is a Little Shit, Cooking, Could Be Taken As Romantic It's Your Choice, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Lingerie, May Become a Series, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, No Sexual Content, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pancakes, Platonic Bed-sharing, Platonic Cuddling, Queerplatonic Relationship(s), Queerplatonic Relationships, Sexual Attraction But Platonic Feelings, Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, Sleepovers, Teenagers, Time Travel, Two Shot, pre-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-08 02:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19862368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maximilian_Alexander/pseuds/Miraculous_Max
Summary: If anyone had told Adrien six years ago that, one day, Chat Noir and Marinette would somehow end up becoming such close friends that they’d casually rest against her bed together watching anime, all while she’s in nothing but her lingerie and a thin, see-through robe, he’d probably choke on his tongue in complete mortification and deny it with every fibre of his being.This is despite the fact that, by all technicality, he already knew that.





	1. Chapter 1

If anyone had told Adrien six years ago that, one day, Chat Noir and Marinette would somehow end up becoming _such_ close friends that they’d casually rest against her bed together watching anime, all while she’s in nothing but her _lingerie_ and a thin, see-through robe, he’d probably choke on his tongue in complete mortification and deny it with every fibre of his being.

If you had also accused him of immediately picturing Marinette in said lingerie and finding the image rather attractive, he’d deny that as well. Of course, he would have been _lying,_ both to you and himself.

Fact of the matter is, regardless of whether he had seen this coming or not, it was the position he had landed himself in. And to be quite honest, he’s more than happy with it.

As an adult male model, girls wearing lingerie or other traditionally ‘sexy’ clothing doesn’t really set his heart aflame. It’s easy to ignore, and if he can’t _ignore_ it, it’s easy to not _care_. And Marinette, clearly, has picked up on that. Over the years, she began to care less and less about her general appearance or clothed state whenever he visited. Six years ago, if Chat Noir had entered through her window, she would have screamed bloody murder and thrown heavy projectiles at him until he got the message and _scrammed_. Now, she doesn’t so much as blink whenever he comes in while she’s changing, and he, in turn, doesn’t bat an eye either. 

He feels, somewhat, that something about this should _mean_ something. It’s pretty unusual for a girl to trust any guy outside of family well enough to just... casually get _naked_ around them. Not that he doesn’t feel pretty honored that Marinette places that amount of trust in him, mind you, but... It’s _unusual_ , especial in regards to a platonic relationship.

It makes him feel warm and happy, though. Out of all of her friends, it’s _Chat Noir_ that Marinette trusts to give her a full and honest opinion when modeling her newly sewn lacy undergarments and strutting around her living room floor. It’s _Chat Noir_ that Marinette trusts to wake her up in the morning for work, despite not living with her, leaving her windows unlocked to give him free entry. It’s _Chat Noir_ that Marinette trusts to pick her up and bring home safely when she’s been out drinking, and _Chat Noir_ she trusts to hold her hair for her while she throws up into the toilet, and _Chat Noir_ she trusts to not judge her for it and leave her a glass of water and painkillers for the morning. 

She trusts him enough to take those painkillers without even looking, because she _knows_ he remembers the name of _every single_ prescription she’s not allowed to take in fear of a severe allergic reaction. (How could he ever forget carrying Marinette’s unconscious body to the hospital?)

Thinking about the unwavering trust Marinette has in him can be frightening, sometimes. Just as much as the thought can make him smile and fill his chest with unbridled giddiness, it can also make him lie awake at night, scared of the many ways that trust could be taken advantage of or broken. On some level, there’s the fear of disappointing her; what if she’s putting _too_ much faith in him, after all? But, he knows that disappointing her is the last of his worries. She makes it clear to mention how proud she is of him all too often, and there’s no lack of communication between them if problems ever arise. They’ve learned to work things out healthily.

It’s the fear of incidents like _Copycat_ that truly terrify him. That Marinette would have so much trust in him, that some _fake_ could walk right in and take full advantage of it, catch her by surprise and...

Worse than Copycat, though, is what if _he_ was akumatised? What if Marinette still put all her trust in him, even while his feelings and morals are twisted and transformed into something _completely_ undeserving of it?

Indeed, he lies awake at night thinking about it. Even while Marinette’s head rests peacefully against his chest, the tablet on Chat’s knees having been shut off at the sound of his dear friend’s gentle snores. Even as he curls an arm protectively around her shoulders, sets the tablet aside, and pulls the thin covers over their reclined bodies, he can’t help but fear the possibility of Marinette’s trust being her downfall.

And yet, he’s selfish enough that he would never have it any other way. As unexpected as the development in their relationship is, the idea of giving the closeness they have up for _any_ reason... Just the _thought_ of it feels like a hot iron being pressed into the vulnerable flesh of his heart. Gory as it sounds, it’s an accurate simile.

So, like every other night when he’s kept himself up with his worry, he gives the internal argument up with a silent promise to keep Marinette safe. It’s all he can do.

With that, he tilts his head to nuzzle into Marinette’s short, wild hair, breathes in the calming scent of her raspberry shampoo, and drifts to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Being sent to the future along with a majority of his classmates wasn’t something Adrien had expected when he went to school that morning, although that on its own wasn’t too much of a big deal if he really thought about it. In situations like these, he would normally tell himself to take a deep breath and keep everyone from getting too nosy. After all, they _don’t_ want to mess up the future by letting their curiosity get the best of them. (And _oh_ , did Adrien know quite a bit about curiosity. Out of them all, it would pain _him_ the most to keep his nature under control.)

Of course, that is what he would _normally_ do. 

In this case, however, he found it _extremely difficult_ to keep even a semblance of calm. Because, instead of simply popping up in their classroom six years into the future, they instead were plopped down in a _completely different_ location, which just so happened to be a big, light pink bedroom, currently occupied by two sleeping figures.

Both of which were quickly and easily recognised.

“Holy fuck,” Alya whispered breathily, eyes wide with shocked bewilderment. “Is that— No way, Marinette and... and _Chat Noir?_ ”

“Holy _fuck_ ,” Nino echoes, confirming that Alya most certainly was _not_ hallucinating, and that the older version of their dear friend _was_ , in fact, resting in bed with Paris’ beloved feline superhero.

Internally, Adrien is repeating the sentiment, while also thanking whatever higher power out there that’s responsible for making sure Marinette was not early that morning.

Out of the class, the only ones to have arrived early was himself, Alya, Nino, Ivan, Mylène, and Alix. As a result, they were the only ones present when the akuma had appeared out of nowhere and began zapping whole classrooms. There wasn’t enough time to even stand up, much less figure out who the akuma is or why they were akumatised. All they had heard was some nonsense about current events, what the future may hold, and then _zap!_ The schoolroom had disappeared, leaving the pink bedroom in its place.

“Maybe we should wake them up,” Mylène suggests, nervously holding onto Ivan’s arm. “I mean, it’s Chat Noir, right? Maybe he’d be able to help us?”

“Not to mention we’re kinda trespassing,” Alix adds. “I wouldn’t exactly be happy if a bunch of uninvited guests just stood around and watched me sleep.”

“Yeah, alright,” Alya agrees. “But hold on a second, let me just...”

And with that, she whips out her phone, leans a little closer, and takes a picture, capturing Marinette’s peaceful, adorable face snuggled up against Chat Noir’s side, and the hero’s... wide, alert eyes, staring directly at the camera, with an expression that screams _**danger**_.

Quick as a flash, a clawed hand retracts itself from Marinette’s waist and latches onto Alya’s wrist, squeezing hard enough to weaken her fingers, making the phone slip smoothly from her grip and clatter onto the floor.

Everyone stops breathing.

“And just _what_ ,” Chat Noir growls, baring his teeth and showcasing prominent fangs that he most _certainly_ didn’t have in their own time, “do you think you are _doing_ , Mlle. Césaire?”

From this point, Adrien had expected things to snowball from there. Knowing himself, and how horrible he tends to be when he wakes up in the morning, he had believed that things were going to get overly dramatic and a little bit messy. However, he finds himself surprised, because despite his older self clearly being quite a bit ticked off, the man remains patient, waiting for Alya to stutter through an explanation.

“I just wanted— I was going to— I thought Marinette would, uh, would react funny if I. Um. If I showed her a picture like that. I wasn’t going to, like, post it on the _Ladyblog_ or anything, because she’s my best friend I wouldn’t— would _never_ make her a target, so—”

He lets go of her wrist, closes his eyes, then sighs, looking drained despite having just woken up, and thankfully no longer appearing angry. He reaches a hand up to rub at his eyelids, and Marinette, still curled up against his side and resting on his chest, scrunches her eyebrows, bothered by his continued movements. Unconsciously, the hand she has resting on his shoulder whacks him lightly, and she grumbles a bit under her breath. 

Chat smiles and dutifully freezes in place, arm still raised and fingers resting on his forehead.

“I’m guessing this was an akuma attack,” the man says. Most of the class nod their heads in response, but Adrien remains completely still and silent, not quite sure how he’s supposed to process the facts placed in front of them.

“Well,” Chat Noir says. “Give me a second to pry Marinette off. I’ll lead you to the kitchen, and we’ll talk there.”

Adrien would like to say that things happened in a blur after that statement, but the truth of the matter was that everything from that point was branded into his mind with crystal clarity. Chat had managed to gently wrestle himself away from Marinette’s grip, but in the process, _everyone_ had gotten a look at what was hidden under the thin covers— and _oh_ , not a single one of them were spared the shame that burned their cheeks. 

Adrien, despite being fifteen like the rest of his classmates, was used to seeing women in rather provocative clothing, but the sight of an older Marinette in lacy underwear, however brief, had _definitely_ sent his heart racing. He didn’t know what to think of that. That the many gorgeous underwear models he’s surrounded by left him completely unaffected, but _Marinette_ in anything even remotely suggestive made his blood pump and his breath hitch.

Once Chat Noir finally escaped the bed’s clutches, he locked eyes with Adrien for a split second. In that time, he had smiled knowingly, and winked, before moving on.

“Follow me, everyone. _Quietly_.”

With that, everyone files out of the room. Chat Noir closes the door behind them, taking one last look at Marinette’s sleeping form, then leads them through the hallway and towards the kitchen. He gestures for everyone to seat themselves at the counter, and starts rummaging through the fridge. 

“I’m guessing you guys think I’ll be able to help with your predicament,” Chat Noir says, pulling out a carton of milk and eggs. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to disappoint you, though. The time passing here should be in line with the time passing from where you came from, so until Ladybug defeats the akuma, you’ll be stuck here.”

Alya’s quickly tapping this information away onto her phone, which thankfully did not crack from its previous fall. It’s useful knowledge to have in case of any similar akuma attacks in the future.

“Um, I have a question,” Nino says, raising his hand. Chat doesn’t notice it, his back turned towards them as he fetches some measuring cups, but hums for him to continue. “Okay, so, uh, mind explaining what the _hell_ you were doing in bed with our girl?”

Chat snorts. At this point, he’s taken out a bowl, and is sifting some flour into it.

“We watched some anime and fell asleep,” he says. “Get your minds out of the gutter, you dirty teenagers.”

Nino and Alya squawked indignantly, while Alix burst into laughter and nearly tilted right off the kitchen stool.

“But, um,” Mylène stutters. “What exactly is your... _relationship_ with Marinette?”

“Platonic,” Chat Noir answers without a moment of hesitation. He looks over his shoulder and laughs at their surprised expressions.

“What? I _told_ you to get your minds out of the gutter.”

“Platonic my _ass_ ,” Alya cries out. “You think I’m going to believe my girl would willingly sleep, decked out in _sexy lingerie_ , next to a _guy friend?!_ Get real!”

Chat Noir doesn’t offer a real response to that, instead continuing to laugh, and starts whisking the bowl in front of him, now filled with egg, some melted butter, flour, milk, and sugar. 

“You,” Adrien starts, then stops with a nervous swallow. He hasn’t spoken at all up until this point, but he can’t bring himself to not ask this. “Are you trying to tell us that you don’t find Marinette attractive _at all?_ Like, whatsoever?”

The smirk Chat Noir sends his younger self is sharp and devious.

“Do _you?_ ”

Adrien splutters, face immediately turning red because _yes_ , both in his own time and in the current future, Marinette is _very attractive_. Clearly, this was his older self’s way of answering the question. Adrien isn’t entirely sure he appreciates the method.

If he feels Nino and Alya’s gazes burning into the side of his face, he chooses to ignore it. 

“ _...Minou?_ ”

Everyone turns to face the direction of the hallway, where Marinette’s groggy voice rings out through. 

“ _Why’d you get up so early?_ ”

“Early? It’s past nine, Marinette,” Chat Noir calls. “Before you come to get your pancakes, put on something _opaque_ , please. We’ve got guests.”

There’s a long pause.

“ _We have WHAT?!_ ”

Marinette’s voice rings loud and clear, all traces of sleep washed away. Seconds later, a door slams, presumably her bedroom’s, as she rushes to get changed into something more... _appropriate_.

Not five minutes later, the sound of a door roughly swinging open echoes down the hallway, and loud stomps warn them of Marinette’s incoming arrival. Despite the warning, when she pops into view it still feels abrupt, her eyes wide and worried. Her tense shoulders relax, however, when she finally determines the identities of her guests.

“Oh,” she murmurs. “Akuma?”

“Yeah, they’re from the past,” Chat answers. He turns to face her, bowl in one arm and whisk in the other. “That was a while ago, they’ll probably be back in maybe... the next thirty minutes? Maybe a bit longer? I forgot how long it took us to take akuma down back then, and I don’t know how long it’ll take Ladybug on her own.”

Marinette hums thoughtfully, then smiles.

“Well, I don’t mind. I forgot how cute my class was back then, it’s funny seeing Nino with short hair again! And wow, Alix! You’re _tattooless!_ ”

She pulls out a chair from next to Adrien and drags it around to the other side of the counter, seating herself to face all of her former classmates. She opens her mouth, but whatever comes out from that point on, Adrien can’t say. His thoughts wander, from how pretty Marinette looks in the ankle-length blue sundress she put on, to how at ease his older self looks in front of the stove, flipping pancakes.

There’s something about the scene that makes him feel warm. He wants to say it looks _homey_ , which by all rights it is, but that’s not the word he’s searching for.

He’s snapped out of it when a plate of blueberry pancakes is placed in front of him. His older self winks, then places a plate of strawberry pancakes in front of Marinette.

“Alright, that’s everyone. I’ll bring out the syrup and honey.”

Adrien wrinkles his nose.

“Honey? You don’t put _honey_ on _pancakes_.”

“I _know_ ,” Chat says, wholeheartedly agreeing. “Marinette’s a complete _heathen!_ ”

Marinette grabs a dry washcloth from beneath the counter, twists it, then snaps it at Chat’s butt. He jumps and shuffles away, laughing at her playfully offended expression.

Adrien smiles.

Chat comes back with the syrup and honey in one hand, and a plate of his own pancakes in the other. Unlike Adrien’s, they’re raspberry. Marinette grabs at the honey before it even touches the countertop, slathering it all over her pancakes, and wrinkles her nose as Chat Noir slathers his own in syrup.

She doesn’t make it a secret that she hates maple syrup. She must have only bought it because her friends liked it. Or, maybe more specifically, _Chat Noir_ liked it.

With no more unoccupied chairs, Adrien’s older self stands casually beside Marinette, leaning his elbows down against the counter and brushing his shoulder against hers. Ivan starts talking, something he says getting Marinette to smile in delight, and Chat’s eyes seem reluctant to look at anything other than the joy on her face.

_Oh,_ Adrien realises as he pours some syrup onto his pancakes. _Domestic, that was the word_. 

They acted like they lived together. Like they belonged nowhere else but at each others’ sides. Like, even if their relationship were to never venture into romantic territory, they’d happily spend the rest of their lives together, grow _old_ together. 

It seemed nice.

“Almost ten,” Marinette observes, glancing towards the clock above the refrigerator. “Chat, didn’t you have a job to get to at ten-fifteen?”

His older self chokes on a piece of pancake, and Marinette slaps a palm against his back while he coughs and splutters. 

“ _Shit!_ I need to shower and leave!”

In almost a practiced motion, Chat spears his remaining pancake, luckily untainted by maple syrup, and slips it onto Marinette’s stack, then leaves his empty plate in the sink. After that, he books it down the hall.

Marinette smiles and shakes her head at his antics. 

“I’ll get his clothes and towel, be right back.”

She gets up and walks away, leaving the children to their privacy.

“Oh my god,” Alya says. “Oh my _god_ , this is real. They’re like, _married_ , or something. Platonic? _Platonic?_ ”

Ivan nods in understanding and pats Alya on the back, trying and failing to hide his amusement.

“Marinette seems happy with how things are.”

Mylène nods in agreement.

“They don’t need to hold hands and kiss each other to be happy with how they are.”

“Okay, okay, but _counterpoint_ ,” Alya says. “Chat Noir didn’t say he _didn’t_ find her attractive, when Adrien asked.”

“ _Alya_ ,” Adrien chides, leaning back to look at her past Nino’s shoulders. “He didn’t say he _did_ find her attractive, either.”

Well, technically he _did_ say that, but only Adrien knew that particular detail. 

“Besides, finding someone attractive doesn’t mean you should _date_ them. It’s not like it’s uncommon to think your friends are pretty.”

“He’s got you there, Als,” Nino chuckles. “Lets just leave them be, okay? No meddling, let the flow take the reigns this time.”

“Wow,” Alix deadpans. “That’s deep, Nino.”

“ _Shut up_.”

Marinette comes back shortly after, announcing that Chat had already left, and _no_ Alya, just because she knew Chat had to leave didn’t mean she knew his identity, stuff your mouth and quit asking questions. 

When the pancakes were gone, and the plates were cleaned, Marinette had once again checked the clock.

“You know,” she says thoughtfully, more to herself than anyone else. “I think Chat actually started visiting me around the time that akuma happened, six years ago... Maybe he met himself when he left? But... no, can’t be. Nobody really remembered the future in detail.”

“Wait,” Alix questioned. “We’re going to _forget_ this?”

“Hm? Oh, no! Or, well, _kind_ of? You had vague ideas of what happened and who you met, but nobody seemed to remember things in detail. I guess it’s... possible that Chat Noir met with his future self. That would explain why he started randomly visiting me based on a ‘feeling,’ or whatever he called it.”

Marinette sighed, then looked up in surprise, having heard her phone receive a message. She quickly checks it, mouthing to them that it was Alya— _older_ Alya. Whatever she reads surprises her, and makes her smile. She pockets her phone not long after.

“Well, don’t worry _too_ much about it. You’ll remember all the details _eventually_. Alya’s already texting me about it. And by that, I mean she’s _interrogating_ me.”

Beside him, he sees Alya— the _younger_ one— open her mouth to say something, but before anyone can get a word out, a blinding light surrounds them, and things... go _fuzzy_.

When they open their eyes, they’re back in class, confused and disoriented, surrounded by the remaining students who hadn’t been caught up in the akuma attack. 

Adrien remembers a pretty blue dress and matching blue eyes, pancakes, and warmth. 

When Marinette finally bursts into the classroom, stuttering apologies, he finds his focus completely on her, no matter how hard he tries otherwise. An itch digs under his skin, impossible to ignore, that intensifies every moment his thoughts and gaze land on her, and he has no idea what to do.

Three days later, on a solo patrol, he lands on Marinette balcony without even thinking. Like a rush of water pouring over him, the itch washes away, finally giving him the answer to solving his problem.

He knocks on her skylight, and waits.

(Somehow, he knew she would invite him in.)

(Somehow, he knew she would _keep_ inviting him in.)

(It’s just a feeling.)


End file.
